In writing, we talk about putting our characters’ through the wringer. We build them up only to tear them down. We give them gifts and rip them away.

But deciding what to give and what to take away can be difficult. Our protagonist’s surroundings and possessions should have a personal, emotional meaning attached to them. They should also reflect the theme, help create the story world, and further the plot. How can you pick the right details that will help you add layers of symbolism to your story?

In a post on Writer Unboxed (one of my regular go-to sites for writing advice), Therese Walsh suggests an interesting path into your characters’ psyches:

What would they save in a fire?

“Moments of crisis can become a powerful lens that reveals character in a way few other situations can,” she says. “That’s because the pressure to choose has a way of calling everyone’s bluff—revealing core values and hidden attachments beyond the easier-to-explore surface of character. It calls the author’s bluff too, as pushing a character into the fire can illuminate for you what’s important to them.”

Imagine your hero is faced with a literal fire and has only minutes to choose what – if anything – to save. Ask:

• What’s the most revealing item your protagonist could choose to save? How does this represent their values?
• Is there an object that contributes to their sense of self? Rather than something of monetary value, consider what would be sentimentally or emotionally valuable. What is the one object that represents your character as a person?
• Can a character’s attachment to certain items become a subtle way to hint at deeper, hidden layers of their story?
• What do they leave behind? This can be as revealing as what they save. This might be something they forgot about, something they didn’t have time to choose, or something they left behind intentionally.
• Does the object represent unresolved conflict, either with someone else or internally?
• How might your character’s choices in a crisis highlight their arc over the course of your novel? Do they save an object they later realize they don’t need or abandon something they later wished they’d saved?
• What happens if they lose the item they save? Sometimes, what a character would save is exactly what the story needs to strip from them. How do they react to this second-layer loss?
• Does the loss create ripples or lead to another loss? Does the loss upset them emotionally and distract them? How does the character function without this symbol?

What would I save?

• Me, of course. My dog when I still had her.
• My car keys, wallet, and phone (mobility, financial sustenance, communication).
• My laptop, which has the rest of my life and all my writing on it.

Can I make two trips?

• The box with the deed to my house and my financial documents.

Do I have time to pack the car? In the case of the California wildfires, some people had a bit of warning and time to evacuate. But now, my choices get dicey. Do I pack up:

• A few irreplaceable keepsakes and mementos?
• Photo albums?
• My journals and notebooks?
• My favorite pieces of art?
• Some expensive comics I couldn’t afford to replace?

Only the first short list is non-negotiable. If my dog couldn’t go, I wouldn’t leave. My keys, wallet, phone, and laptop usually sit in the same spot, so it would take no more than a few seconds to sweep them up. Even without the car, I could easily carry all of that in a backpack.

I could leave everything else without a second thought, and moan about it later. In fact, having time to pack up a car would probably be more stressful for me than being forced to run at a moment’s notice. My fight or flight instinct is way keener than my executive decision making skills.

What does that say about me?

I prize living beings over objects, and would rather die than sacrifice someone I love. I have financial stability and people I can call for help. My writing is my heart, my voice, and my life.

I am resilient. I know I can start over with nothing because I’ve done it. I know I can survive a loss because I’ve had to let things go. I wouldn’t like to lose everything I own in a fire, but I’m confident in my ability to bounce back. Whatever I lose, I’ll get back, inch by inch if I have to.

At heart, I am tragically unsentimental. While that statement would seem comical to anyone who could see the amount of crap I hoard, stuff is just stuff. The question of throwing away something that reminds me of an old friend is very different from the question of what I need to survive.

And the answer to the latter is my writing, some cash, and someone to love.

Of course, your interpretation of my character may vary. And that’s ok, because it’s your story.

Honestly, I’d make a terrible protagonist. My hero’s journey ends with the Refusal of the Call. I have naps to take. However, your hero is likely a bit more dynamic. Does your hero save their father’s sword, the family Bible or recipe book, a deceased spouse’s photo or wedding ring, a trophy that symbolizes their one victory in life, an article of clothing intended for a special occasion, a piece of art they created, a plan for their dream business, incriminating photos they’ve been using to blackmail someone, the car they’ve been restoring? What is so important to the core of their being that they’d risk their life for it?

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